First Tears

ZACH

Violet’s anxiety kicks in after just fifteen minutes. They haven’t even left the house yet, and she’s already a bundle of nerves.

“What if she won’t stop crying? What if she won’t take the bottle? Will she cry the whole time they’re out? What if they get into an accident and we don’t know, what if—.” Her worries are driving me up the wall.

“Enough, Vi. They’ll be okay. We can track their phones, and they’ll call if there’s any trouble,” I try to soothe her. She nods, falling silent and sinking back into the pillows. But even in her silence, I can hear the thoughts whirling in her head.

I reach for the TV remote on the bedside table and hand it to her. Then I settle against her chest, taking her nipple into my mouth. At first, she just lies there, letting me stimulate her breasts like I do most nights now.

This has become our routine. While Callum or Tyler feeds Ella with a bottle, I drink Violet’s milk. If Tyler is feeding Ella, Callum and I take turns drinking from Violet’s other breast. Usually, Violet is too sleepy to notice.

Violet turns on the TV but doesn’t change the channel. She doesn’t watch much TV, which is unusual for a girl her age. She doesn’t even know how to use the remote beyond turning the TV on, so it stays on the music channel that Callum likes.

I settle against her, drinking her milk and flipping through the channels until I find a crime documentary. We lie there for a good fifteen minutes while I drink until her milk stops flowing. Then I move to her other breast, lying on Callum’s side of the bed. Violet’s hand absentmindedly plays with my hair as I get engrossed in the TV show about a person who’s been missing for several years.

I’m completely absorbed in the show when her hand stops moving and her breathing becomes shallow. She’s fallen asleep. I’m not cruel enough to wake her, so I continue to suckle at her breast, finding it soothing, as I watch the end of the documentary and then the next one.

I don’t know why, but lying here against her warm body, with her breast in my mouth, makes me feel strangely peaceful. Her milk flows in a rhythm, from a steady stream to a slow drip and back again, throughout the hour-long show. My mind is unusually quiet and content.

There’s no anxiety, as the therapist has now labeled it. There’s no need for sex because I have all the closeness I need. And there’s no worry about the situation we’ve found ourselves in. Tilly is always in my thoughts, but it’s as if Violet is unknowingly soothing my anxiety, convincing me that everything will be okay and that we’ll adjust to our new normal soon.

Violet rolls onto her side, her breast falling from my mouth. My face is sandwiched between her breasts as she pulls me close. I laugh at the awkward position I’m in, unable to watch the TV show now but faced with Violet’s perfect chest. I breathe in her scent. It’s changed now that she’s producing milk. Her breasts smell of milk, Ella, and Violet—a heady mix of love. It’s as addictive as her milk and just as calming, so I let my eyes close as I use her breasts as a pillow.

I’m awakened by the sound of a phone ringing incessantly from my side of the bed. The ringing is muffled by Violet’s now rock-hard breasts. Damn, how long have we been sleeping?

I crawl over Violet, searching for the phone that’s causing the noise. It’s mine.

“Tyler,” I answer sleepily, trying to keep my voice down so as not to wake Violet.

“How’s Violet?”

“She was worried before you even left, but she’s sleeping now. How are things on your end?”

“Weird.” I can almost see him looking at the floor and sighing, the way he does when he’s anxious and overwhelmed.

“I was wondering if you two would want to meet us for lunch, maybe take the girls to this sensory room we saw?” The girls. Why does that sound so strange?

“I guess I can wake Violet up. Are you stalling on bringing Tilly home?”

“Maybe,” he admits.

“It’s inevitable, Tyler. You have a legal agreement in place.”

“That doesn’t make it any less awkward or strange. I mean, Tilly has been crying for the past hour, and neither Callum nor I can calm her down. She won’t take the bottle Sophie told me to make. She’s red-faced and hiccuping.”

“She misses her mother.”

“Her mother hasn’t even called to check on her, and we’ve had her for two hours already.”

“She’s a doctor, Tyler. You know how busy she was before.”

“But she hasn’t even bothered to ask if Tilly is settled,” he complains.

He’s panicking, and I’m sure Callum isn’t helping. He needs clear instructions on how to care for Tilly.

“Does she have a pacifier?”

“Nope.” This is going to be a fun couple of days, isn’t it?

“Sing to her or something. I’ll wake Violet up and we’ll meet you at the Chinese restaurant in thirty minutes?”

“Thanks,” he says, but he doesn’t hang up. He’s waiting for more instructions. I can hear Tilly crying in the background and Callum talking in his monotone voice.

“Jesus. Tyler, you’re going to have to learn how to calm her down. She’s your child, and this is going to be a weekly thing now.”

“She’s not mine. I told you this…”

“Well, legally, Sophie has proven that you are indeed Tilly’s father. And an agreement has been co-signed by lawyers. In fact, my father is probably in court right now getting it signed to make it legally binding, so she can’t go back on what was agreed. Whether you like it or not, baby, Tilly is yours for now, and we all have to accept that and move forward. We need to make this situation a happy one for both kids, especially Tilly, because this is a huge change for her.”

“I know,” he admits.

“Good. So start acting like the dad I know you are. Calm Tilly down, and we’ll be at the restaurant soon.”

“See you soon,” he finally hangs up.

“He’s struggling?” Violet asks.

“Yup.”

“I need to pump.”

“I could—”

“If you keep drinking from me, there won’t be anything left for Ella in the stockpile,” she interrupts me.

“I’m sure between the two of us, we could increase your supply enough to satisfy both of us.”

“You’ve said.”

She gets up and walks naked to the bathroom and into the closet. She has bags of clothes that haven’t been hung up yet, and she heads straight for one in particular. She pulls out a deep green dress that I know will look perfect with her hair. She starts to get dressed.

“I’ll pump in the car. Take the cooler to keep it cold until we get home,” she says, catching me watching her.

She puts on one of those bras with a special clip that folds the cup down for breastfeeding. Then she puts on the dress, which is form-fitting except for the loose material that drapes over her breasts. I assume it moves out of the way for breastfeeding. She pairs it with black pumps and, for once, brushes her hair into a high ponytail. Then she uses another hair tie to roll her hair into a loose bun on top of her head.

She catches me staring and smiles to herself.

“It needs cutting. I keep sitting on it, and it hurts.” I like it long, but I have noticed that.

“I’ll ask my mom to book her hairstylist to come over, if you want?”

“I don’t want much cut off.”

“Then tell her that when she’s here,” I suggest. I get dressed in a pair of plain black Levi’s and a light green top that matches Violet’s dress. I put on a pair of black trainers, and I’m ready.

“Let me just get the cooler and breast pump,” she says as we walk downstairs.

I head straight for the car, knowing I’ll have to wash it before we can drive. And I’m right. The dust is thick on her black paint. I grit my teeth as I hose off the dirt. This just won’t do. I can’t wait for the driveway to be finished.

“Well, this breast pump hurts less.”

“The new one that fits in your bra? Come get in, I said we’d only be half an hour.”

“Yeah, the Elvie,” she hands me a small cooler that Catherine had brought her. I put it in the trunk before getting in the car and starting the engine.

Violet is meticulously fastening her seatbelt, taking care not to jostle her chest. I can’t help but chuckle at the intense focus on her face.

“Zach, it’s not funny. I don’t want to spill any. You’ve been consuming way too much, and I’ve only managed to store less than twenty ounces in the past four days.”

“Honey, twenty ounces is more than Kelsie ever managed to pump in a day when she was exclusively breastfeeding.”

“I just like having a backup, you know?”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. I can’t imagine Ella ever rejecting the breast. I know I wouldn’t.”

“You’re such a strange one, Zach.” Is that a bad thing?

“Would you prefer me any other way, sweetheart?”

“No, definitely not, but do all men enjoy drinking from their partners?” I can’t help but snort at the conversation.

“Apparently not, sweetheart. Tyler doesn’t.”

“He’s not a fan of milk. That’s probably why.”

“I don’t have many friends with kids, but the ones who do, their husbands have tried it too. Does that make you feel better?”

“Sort of, at least I know Callum’s just as odd as you. It would be more unsettling if it was only you,” she says, laughing.

I draw her hand to my thigh, intertwining our fingers as we hit the open road. I press the accelerator. The car surges forward, bringing that smile to her face that I’ve missed so much.